


Dark chocolate and sugar make for the best kisses

by Eriathalia



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Baking, Chocolate, Chubby Aziraphale (Good Omens), Cookies, Domestic Fluff, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Kitchen Sex, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-06
Updated: 2019-08-06
Packaged: 2020-08-10 17:29:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20139265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eriathalia/pseuds/Eriathalia
Summary: Crowley likes to spoil his angel. And he might hypothetically learned a thing or two about baking...just in case...However, teaching Aziraphale is a completely different matter. But how could he ever say no to him?(Or: well, that escalated quickly)





	Dark chocolate and sugar make for the best kisses

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LawrVert](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LawrVert/gifts).

> This is what happens when the author has a totally hormone driven craving for sweets...and trie to cheer up her partner...

The soft pitter-patter of the rain against the old window panes of the old bookshop gave the dimly lit room inside a comfortable atmosphere. The grey clouds outside might have seemed imposing to most onlookers, but inside the inhabitants of the small flat right above what could have rather been described as a safe haven for old rarities than a true store, given the owner’s system of keeping unwanted customers at bay, couldn’t have been any less bothered. After all they had seen far worse in their long lifetimes, had seen whole cultures rise and be wiped clean off the surface of the planet again.

The sweet scent of cookies permeated the air, coming straight from the tiny kitchenette, which had barely seen any use since the current owner had moved into it. It was not that he did not like food; in fact, it was one of his greatest vices, one that he was not even allowed to display in the first place, but he was, to be frank, not that well versed in the art of cooking. The last thing that he had tried out, a chocolate lava cake, which had made his mouth water at the mere thought of it, had turned into a miniature volcano, spitting molten chocolate all across the place and his neatly kept attire. It had been a complete nightmare to clean up and, far worse than that, a waste of perfectly fine ingredients. Thus, the case of the cooking rare book hoard- ...dealer had been closer for good.

Aziraphale looked up from the novel he was reading as he heard the ticking of footsteps getting closer. Breathing in deeply a wide smile split his face as the scent of freshly baked cookies invaded his nostrils. He scooted over to the edge of the settee and patted the spot next to him, beckoning his companion to sit. 

Crowley did as he was bid and slumped onto the soft cushions next to his angel, propping his feet up on the nearby coffee table, which earned him a raised eyebrow saying ‘really, dear boy’, though he opted to ignore it. Instead, he held out the plate piled with warm cookies (and yes, he did call them cookies for he had found one of those classic American style recipes).

“Care to have the first bite?” he asked and held one up to the other's lips. Aziraphale leaned in and bit off a piece, chewing on it with an expression of mounting bliss. Within seconds, he had devoured the rest of it, dabbing his lips with a white silken handkerchief, which he had pulled from the pocket of his waistcoat. 

“They are scrummy, my dear boy.” He licked his lips to savor every bit of the treat. “Where did you learn to bake?”

The angel leaned over again, elegant fingers snatching another cookie from the plate. He simply could not resist the temptation at hand.

Crowley shrugged and settled deeper into the cushions, discarding his shades in order to rub his eyes. 

“Who said I did? ‘S not as if anyone was goin’ ‘round offering lessons to a demon.” 

The angel sighed. “I suppose not. But you did an excellent job anyway.” That said, a third piece found its way between plump lips.

“I aim to please,” the demon answered in a mocking tone. “And how better to please you than offering you sweets?”

Aziraphale made an indignant sound as if he had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar at night, which in a certain sense was true as he finished off a fourth piece.

“What is that supposed to mean?” the angel huffed and pointedly looked away.

“Aaah, c’mon, I know you like being spoiled.” Crowley shifted, leaning sideways to rest his chin on the other’s shoulder. His slim fingers found their way to the angel’s stomach and gave it a good poke, almost making him jump out of his seat in surprise. His little squeak was most adorable, though Crowley would deny to ever admitting it aloud.

“Stop that ” Aziraphale protested as the demon kept on poking and squishing his midriff.

Crowley pouted “Why? You’re squishy.”

The angel pushed his hand away, a look of hurt on his face.

“I told you to stop,” he repeated more firmly. The demon removed his hands immediately, crossing his arms to hide them in his armpits, a nagging feeling of guilt spreading in his gut.

He head not meant to be hurtful in any way. In his eyes, his angel was perfect in every sense, such a perfect, voluptuous contrast to his own lanky frame, but Aziraphale did not always share that opinion. It was the reason why Crowley had picked up doting on him with homemade treats in the first place, hoping they would convey what his mouth did not dare to say.

“Sorry,” he mumbled and averted his gaze, the usually bright yellow-golden eyes now dull and downcast.

Aziraphale sighed. “It’s not your fault dear boy.” Tentatively he reached out and took the demon’s hand in his own, bigger one, squeezing it gently. The other watched him from the corner of his eye, not yet daring to leave his obvious mistake behind.

“I like you being squishy” Crowley muttered. “Feels nice.” He felt his hand being moved and, to his surprise, placed on that plump, warm stomach. He raised his head, being greeted by the welcoming smile that was so typical for his angel. He relaxed, rubbing his fingers across the soft velvet of the worn out waistcoat.

The angel hummed contentedly. “There now, that's much better, isn’t it?”

Just as Crowley way about to answer, Aziraphale’s stomach grumbled, causing him to blush a light shade of pink. 

“Ah…seems I might be hungry again.” He bit his bottom lip. Crowley wished nothing more than to kiss him right then but held back.

“Gluttony is a sin, Angel.” Crowley grinned at the indignant look on his angel’s face. 

“This is hardly gluttony it’s…” Aziraphale paused “it’s necessary for one’s well being.” He nodded as if to prove himself right.

“For humans, yes. But you don’t need to eat.” 

“So what?” the angel protested. “Wasn’t it you who made me those…what did you call them again? Cookies?” He crossed his arms, though he did not move the demon’s hand off his stomach. It was his well-kept secret, that he did in fact enjoy their banter. Of course, he could never let Crowley in on it. As unusual of a demon as he was, the other would hardly be able to pass up any opportunity for teasing that offered itself up, and Aziraphale was not certain whether he would still be able to maintain his angelic air once it came to that. After all, he tended to have a rather sharp tongue, at least compared to any other celestial being.

“You know I won’t tell anyone, right?” Crowley offered. Of course he would not. The mere thought of having to interact with anyone but his angel was as abhorrent as revisiting the 14th century. He hated the 14th century.

“’Course you wouldn’t. You-“Before the angel could go on, his stomach emitted an even louder growl. He ducked his head, waiting for another joke to come, but all he heard was laughter softer than one would ever have expected from a demon.

“Let’s feed you some real food, shall we? And may I tempt you to some wine as well?”

Aziraphale nodded enthusiastically, opened his mouth, closed it again, gasped, and then finally blurted out, “You could teach me!" before he could even think better of it.

Crowley tilted his head aside. “Teach you?” 

“Yes. To cook! It will be fabulous” 

Even though Crowley rather doubted the success of such an endeavor, the pure happiness on his angel’s face melted his resolve not to give in to his bidding. (Although it reminded him a lot of the face the angel had made while practicing his magic performance. The mere thought of it sent a cold shiver down his spine.)

“Fine,” he ground out. “But I refuse to take responsibility should we end up burning down your whole shop."

“Don’t be so dramatic dear. This will be fun!” 

Aziraphale clapped his hands in excitement. How he could change from being calm and composed, sunken deep into one of his books, to all hurt the next moment, then suddenly having it turned into excitement which would have matched that of a horde of five year olds being given free range in a candy store, was lost to Crowley’s understanding. 

With a heavy sigh, he yielded to his fate.

“Perfect! What are we making?” Within the blink of an eye the angel had miracled himself a frilly tartan apron. Crowley contemplated the garment with a raised eyebrow.

“Even the apron Angel?”

Aziraphale huffed “Tartan is still stylish. Here.” He waved his hand and produced a second apron out of thin air. “I got one for you too.”

The demon eyed it with an expression of horror.

“Im am so not wearing that...that...THING!” he took a few steps back, but to no avail as the garment tied itself tightly around his neck and waist. Aziraphale squealed happily. 

“Oh it suits you so well my dear!” Crowley looked down on himself and certainly he found his front covered in grey-blue tartan. It would not do. With a snap of his own fingers it changed color to a deep black, reading ‘One hell of a cook’ all complete with devil’s horns. The angel tutted and added ‘Tastes from heaven’ adorned with tiny wings framing the words.

Crowley rolled his eyes but kept quiet about it. He needed a drink. How convenient one of the angel’s best vintages had decided to pop up on the kitchen counter. With practiced fingers, Crowley snatched the corkscrew from the nearby drawer and opened the bottle. Just as he was about to take a swig, he heard the other clearing his throat.

“Won’t you at least share, dear boy?” The demon rolled his eyes but filled two glasses, handing one to the angel, who took it with a quiet “Thank you, dear.”

“Now...” Crowley sauntered towards the fridge and opened it, forehead drawn up in deep wrinkles.

“Empty. This might not be that easy after all.” He turned back to Aziraphale who stared at him with a serene expression. 

“But you made those lovely cookies, my dear” he offered.

“Uh...yeah...but that falls into the realm of dessert, not real food.”

The angel hummed, scratched his chin and finally answered. “That’s just fine. i love dessert!” His smile widened, though Crowley had not even thought it possible till that moment. 

He watched as the other started bustling around the kitchen, opening drawers and cupboards, piling up whatever ingredients he could find on the counter. 

“Let’s see….cocoa, flour, sugar...we have butter and eggs and...cream and….” his face contorted in disgust “raisins”. 

He turned back to Crowley, almost tipping over the pile with his elbow. “What can we make with that?”

“Dunno..uh” the demon emptied his first glass of wine “Brownies?”

“You mean that squishy chocolate cake,” the angel’s eyes shone with excitement.

“Y-Yeah.” Quickly the demon poured himself another glass of wine, downing it in one go, a burp escaping his throat. He could have felt guilty, but his attention was drawn to the other who was aimlessly pouring flour into a bowl, the white mist covering him and a good chunk of the kitchen surface. When Aziraphale caught the other’s stare he tensed, the bag of flour slipping from his hands and spreading its remaining contents across the angel’s shoes. 

Crowley sighed and decided this would be a harder task than he had imagined.

“Slow down a little, will you angel?”

The other nodded and looked at his hands, which as well were covered in flour. his attempt to wipe them clean on his apron was only partially successful.

“So...how do we do this then?” He fiddled with the hem of his waistcoat, trying to reign in his eagerness.

“Let’s see” Crowle stepped up next to him. “You already got the flour so...add some baking soda...a pinch of salt…” He handed the angel a wooden spoon. “Mix that up.” He held the spoon back for another moment and added, “Carefully.”

Aziraphale did as he was told, managing it without any further incident.

“Now...sugar, vanilla...and the eggs.” The angel watched with fascination as all of it whisked itself into a fluffy consistency.

“You do hide some more chocolate around here, don’t you angel?”

“I...don’t know what you mean.” 

Crowley eyes crinkled at the corners in amusement as he watched his angel take post in front of one of the lower cabinets. “I think I’ve seen it...in there?” the demon pointed behind the angel’s legs.

“Down he- oh, oh no dear boy. You must be mista- ah!” Aziraphale barely caught himself on the edge of the kitchen counter as the sudden shove threw him off balance. With a triumphant hiss, the demon produced a block of dark chocolate from the cabinet.

“Oh don’t fret Angel. You will love this.” He popped the chocolate and some more butter into a pot and set it down on the stove. 

Crowley might not have been the most experienced when it came down to the magic one could work in a kitchen, but he certainly did his homework when it came to ways of pleasing his angel best. It might have been that he had foregone a few nights of sleep in favor of storing the best received recipes of well loved desserts on his phone, and even some more learning them, just in case he ever had a need for the knowledge. And double choc brownies had been high up on the list.

As the chocolate and butter had dissolved into a creamy mass, he added it to his egg mixture, then waved a sieve into Aziraphale’s direction. 

“Could you get that flour and slowly pour it in?” The other was eager to comply. He grabbed the bowl, stumbled and dumped the contents roughly in the direction of the bowl as he went down, landing straight on top of a surprised and not at all blushing demon, the tips of their noses almost touching and lips a mere inch apart. For a few moments they stared at each other breathlessly, before the angel frantically scrambled backwards.

“Oh dear, oh dear, I’ve made such a mess,” he fretted and tried his best to clean up the mishap.

Crowley stood and brushed off some of the flour from his clothing, the apron by now more white than black.

“Don’t worry. Still salvageable.” With the help of a smidgeon of demonic magic, everything mixed into a smooth batter.

“This looks scrumptious.” Crowley swatted the angel’s hand away as a finger was making its way towards the bowl. 

“Hey! no snacking!” the angel pouted.

“But how can we be certain about the quality?” Aziraphale tried to snatch the bowl from behind Crowley’s back.

“Uh-uh, you wait until they are done. ” 

Crowley turned and poured the batter into a baking tray, or rather tried until a weight on his back caused him to stumble forward, burying his face in the chocolaty substance.

“What?! Angel!” His attempt to wipe some of it off his face resulted in spreading it further, though what was far more irritating was Aziraphale’s laughter filling the room. 

“So not funny Angel” In an act of defiance he flicked some of the batter in the angel’s direction, hitting him straight in the chest.

“AAH! I AM HIT” Aziraphale grinned one of those adorable grins that made his nose wrinkle and his eyes sparkle, then grabbed the wooden spoon and held it out like a rapier. “I will get you, foul fiend” With that he launched forward. 

Reflexively, Crowley grabbed the neared thing available to fend off the playful attack. It happened to be the bowl carrying the remainders of their batter. With a splat, the mass hit the angel straight in the face, thus making them even. 

Blue eyes blinked from a sea of brown, then he doubled over laughing. 

“Oh, oh my, look at us” When he raised his head, Aziraphale found himself close to bright yellow eyes. He gasped and held his breath, even though he did not have to breathe in the first place.

“I...I think” His words were cut off as thin lips met his own in an almost tentative kiss. Instinctively he wrapped his arms around Crowley’s neck, drawing his skinny frame against his own, plump one. The demon followed willingly. 

“Angel” he whispered, then broke off, too many things to say, too little words prepared to tumble off the tip of his tongue.

“Yes,” Aziraphale held his gaze, waiting, hoping for...what exactly he did not know, but his not-quite- human heart felt like beating right up to his throat.

Crowley dove in for another kiss, deeper and more passionate and then sunk back onto the floor. He wanted, wanted so much to be even closer, had wanted it for a long time, but been shown his boundaries.

“Am I...going too fast?” he whispered anxiously, afraid that his blissful bubble might pop any second.

“No” the angel replied, his fingers finding their way into chocolate stained ginger hair. 

“Go on, my dear. You have waited long enough.”

Aziraphale gave him an encouraging smile. It was enough for the demon to kiss him all over again, the sweet taste of chocolate mixing with something more uniquely his angel. He untied the back of the apron, then kissed his way down the angel’s neck, sucking right at the junction between neck and shoulder until a bright red spot was blooming on the pale skin. 

Aziraphale’s back arched, searching for closer contact.

Yes, in his most shameful and yet blissful moments he had imagined how it might feel to feel his demon’s hands all over his body. But none of his fantasies could have ever come close to reality. 

Nimble fingers opened the buttons on first his waistcoat and then his shirt, pushing aside the offending garments to reveal a broad, flushed chest.

“Marvelous,” the demon mumbled, then began mapping out every last inch of skin with clever lips, while all Aziraphale could do was gasp and sigh, fingers buried deeply in fiery red hair. 

Once Crowley reached the waistband of his pants where his angel’s soft belly was spilling over the confines of the fabric, he paused and looked up, silently asking for permission. The other nodded breathlessly. “Please.”

It was confirmation enough and as Crowley made quick work of the angel’s pants, he nipped and kissed the soft flesh of Aziraphale’s stomach until it too was covered in tiny red marks.

Hungry golden eyes took in the angel’s length. It was said they needed to make an effort and if that was truly the case, then Aziraphale’s efforts were as close to perfection as anyone would ever get.

His lips closed around the thick head, sucking lightly. It was enough to make the angel cry out his name, squirming as his pleasure quickly mounted to heights just yet unknown to him.

Satisfied, Crowley sunk down farther, taking him in as far as he could. 

Aziraphale’s hips bucked against his best efforts. The demon coughed and drew back, taking in some shallow breaths.

“Forgive me” Aziraphale muttered, guilt evident in his tone, but Crowley merely shook his head.

“‘S fine Angel.” 

That said, he turned back to the task at hand, swallowing deep down again. It did not take long for the angel’s moans to get louder, almost desperate as he neared his peak.

“Dear...my love” the word slipped out unbidden and yet true, but neither of them had the time to contemplate it further as a last flick of a sinful forked tongue pushed zhe angel over the edge, leaving him shuddering beneath a breathless demon, caught by the sight that would put any beauty of an old masters painting to shame. 

Slowly he crawled up, nestled against his angel’s side with a content sigh.

Aziraphale turned his head, regarding the other with a mixture of satisfied bliss and guilt.

“Crowley I…” the demon sealed his lips with a slow kiss, moving forward, the wet patch on his pants evidence of his own pleasure. 

“It’s alright, Angel. Everything is just...perfect.” He rested one of his slender hands on the other’s warm stomach, fingers splayed out against the soft, warm, skin.

“It is a beginning..” he paused, then added more quietly,“ if you permit it.”

Crowley smiled as a gentle hand covered his own. 

“I would like that...very much.” They were silent for a few moments, neither of them being able to tell how much time truly had passed as they lay on the floor in their afterglow.

“Crowley?” The angel eventually spoke up.

“Hmm?” the demon mumbled sleepily. “What is it, Angel?”

“Well uh...I” Aziraphale squirmed, the sweat and dried cake better leaving them a rather sticky mess.

“I need a shower!” he blurted out before he could stop it. Crowley laughed, one of his rare and genuine laughs that made his face shine in a way that must have been reminiscent of the beautiful angel he once must have been. It was followed by another deep kiss, and Aziraphale felt like he was truly home.


End file.
